Mallory kissed her softly. Del kissed her back harder. Before Caroline was down the street they were both on the floor making ardent love as if making love would make them both clean again.
“Wow,” Mallory said, as Del lay on her stomach. “Maybe we should invite Caroline over more often.”
“You’re mine,” Del said with the frightening look of intense love, of love that if it went wrong would totally undo her.
Mallory knew that look. She had had it once herself.
“I am yours utterly and completely,” Mallory murmured, wondering if Caroline had seen that look and if it had scared her.
Mallory knew there had been things about her that frightened Caroline. Caroline had told her so, saying that when they first met she had been extremely intimidated by Mallory and had grown more so as time went on. Mallory never thought of herself as intimidating but Caroline had said that she was an overachiever, finishing college in three years, starting her own business, always so certain of her place in life, never questioning her direction. It was funny. Mallory never thought of herself that way. Sometimes she wondered how two people could hope to communicate when impressions and illusions covered their relationship like a stack of overlays that changed the image over and over again until its original form was no longer visible.
She pulled Del closer and prayed for some kind of miracle that would keep them from the tactics of delusion that love created. Perhaps love needed a patron like Saint Christopher to keep it safe from the harms of shadows and dreams.
“What are you thinking?” Del asked, suddenly fearful of the silence.
“That I want us always to be as fresh and truthful as we are this very moment, that time won’t distort our vision or stain our love, taking what is clear and making it cloudy.”
“Tall order,” Del said, stroking Mallory’s cheek and gazing into her eyes.
“Can we try?” Mallory said.
“Of course,” Del said, with her usual commonsense confidence.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Mallory said.
“Think of who you’re talking to, I’m just a simple Midwestern girl without a duplicitous bone in her body. I’m not even certain I know how to lie,” Del said.
“Del . . .”
“All right, I might understand the basics of deceit but I do not practice any of them.”
“It’s a strange thing but I believe you. In a basically evil world, I think of you as one of the good entities.”
“I won’t let you down.”
Eleven
Dr. Kohlrabi waited for her next patient. When her secretary had told her who it was she had had instant reservations. She could have backed out and referred her to someone else but she knew this particular client would not seek help from another therapist. She was coming to see her because Mallory had told her to do so. Dr. Kohlrabi felt like Mallory was passing on her legacy of insanity by having Gigi come here today.
A small woman entered her office. Dr. Kohlrabi was surprised, not that she expected Gigi to be a giant but definitely more formidable. She had a large bruise on the side of her face.
“What happened to your face?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked.
“Someone threw a shoe at me,” Gigi replied.
“Someone?”
“Shall I tell you the story?” Gigi asked.
“If you like.”
“Isn’t that what therapy is about, telling stories?” Gigi said.
“True stories,” Dr. Kohlrabi amended.
“May I?” Gigi asked, pointing to the couch.
“Certainly.”
Gigi flounced down on the couch, closed her eyes, and said, “Would you mind if I pretended you were Freud?”
“Why?”
“Because he would have had a heyday with my mother.”
“I don’t think fantasies are a good idea at this point,” Dr. Kohlrabi warned.
“This isn’t going to be fun.”
“I’m afraid not. Tell me more about what happened to your face.”
“Oh, all right. I was standing on the canal late one night listening to the part of a song that I had taped on my headphones. The refrain of the song is ‘I don’t know the answer.’ I thought I should try scream therapy, so I screamed ‘I don’t know the answer’ about a hundred times until someone threw the shoe.”
“Why did you choose that part of the song?”
“Because that’s how I feel. I don’t know the answer to anything.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” Gigi said, sitting up.
“Well, I don’t think it was very nice to throw the shoe at you,” Dr. Kohlrabi said, lifting Gigi’s cheek toward the light.
Gigi flinched involuntarily and pulled away.
Her response gave Dr. Kohlrabi her first clue. Gigi’s mother was not a physically affectionate parent. Smart alecks like Gigi were usually the result. They grew up tough in order to survive the abuse of being treated in a less than ideal manner.
“Tell me what else is going on,” Dr. Kohlrabi said, taking a seat in the wingback chair. She’d decided to change her locale ever since Mallory had been surprised by her height, having never seen her without the protective front of her large cherrywood desk. At first it seemed odd but she was getting used to it, practicing her new location with her new or relatively new clients. She didn’t want to upset her long-term patients with a change in routine, nor did she want to explain her reason for changing.
“Caroline, who I’m sure you’ve heard about, is living or rather squatting at my place. She won’t go away.”
“Have you considered calling the police?” Dr. Kohlrabi suggested.
“Yes. However, as an anarchist it would be totally against my political and philosophical ideals and secondly, I did ruin her life.”
“She hasn’t exactly done wonders for yours.”
“No, but I deserved it.”
“Because?” Dr. Kohlrabi prompted.
“I am a coward.”
“You also appear to be a masochist.”
“With sadistic undertones. Maybe I’m bipolar,” Gigi said, momentarily weighing the possibilities.
“I think we’ll need a few more sessions before we draw any such conclusions.”
“If you say so,” Gigi said, admiring the ethnic artifacts that covered the walls in the office.
“What is it with you shrinks and your interest in the primitive? Dr. Freud had all this same kind of shit in his office.”
“Perhaps we are fascinated with the primitive because it is basic and we must always start at the beginning and work from there. Now why don’t you tell me about falling in love with Caroline?” Dr. Kohlrabi said, redirecting her client.
“Shouldn’t we start with my mother and move through my fucked-up childhood?” Gigi suggested.
“We will get to your mother. Trust me.”
“All right. Falling in love with Caroline was the most frightening, intense, passionate, surreal, painful experience of my entire life. At one point I thought I could only live and die in her presence. And then I came to my senses and realized that she was Mallory’s girlfriend and it needed to stop.”
“Was this before or after you slept with her?”
“You know a lot already.”
“It is one of the pitfalls of having a mutual therapist.”
“Mallory won’t speak to me.”
“When did you try to talk to her?”
“I haven’t,” Gigi replied.
“Then how do you know she won’t talk to you?” Dr. Kohlrabi inquired.
“Would you talk to me after what I’ve done? I’m probably fortunate that Mallory is a pacifist or I would really be watching my back.”
“I don’t think you can decide that Mallory won’t talk to you because you decided you wouldn’t talk to you. Did it ever occur to you that how you felt about Caroline might have been heightened in some way because you knew it was taboo, or perhaps by sleeping with Caroline you were really acting out your true desires for Mallor
y?”
“I think you’re way off base there, like you slipped into Freud hyper-drive,” Gigi replied.
“I don’t think so.”
“Look, I slept with Caroline because she seduced me and she’s really hot and quite talented in bed. End of story.”
“Is the same true of Ollie?”
“You know about that too?”
“Consider it therapeutic shorthand.”
“Well, sure. It was pretty much the same with Ollie.”
“Why do you do that?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked.
“Because I’m horny.”
Dr. Kohlrabi raised an eyebrow.
“I do it because I suffer from low self-esteem and having someone desire me, even if it’s illicit, or maybe because it is so, I succumb to the moment,” Gigi replied.
“That was very good.”
“So this is therapy?”
“Yes.”
“You saved Mallory. Can you save me?”
“Mallory saved herself.”
“Surely one or two of your suggestions helped. You get paid for doing something.”
“I guide.”
“Guide me then.”
“As you wish.”
Taylor was sitting on the edge of her desk going over the final details on an account. It was almost six and her neck and shoulders felt the torment of being tied to a desk for nine hours. She could hear Alex in the next office over clicking away at her computer and she wondered at her fortitude. Fortitude was a desirable quality in a partner, Taylor told herself. They still weren’t lovers, although Alex had tried to seduce her on more than one occasion. Taylor was holding out. In this Alex was amazed by her fortitude. They had sessions of teenage heavy petting, foreplay with no resolution.
The clicking on the computer stopped and Alex came into the office. She sat on the edge of the desk next to Taylor.
“Almost done?” Alex asked, taking a loose tendril of Taylor’s hair and tucking it behind her ear.
Taylor smiled at the gesture of sweetness. Alex was full of them. Small acts of kindness that spoke of intense love.
“I love when you do that,” Taylor said, kissing Alex softly.
The phone rang. Alex got up to answer it.
“Don’t go,” Taylor said. “Work is done for today.” She pulled Alex in between her thighs and held her.
“I guess you’re right. I don’t think your father is going to be as happy with my performance now that I hang around with you. I get less work done,” Alex said.
“You’ve worked too hard and too long already. I think a little slacking is in order,” Taylor counseled.
“If you say so,” Alex said, nestling her face in Taylor’s neck.
“I am the boss’s daughter,” Taylor replied.
“The boss’s very attractive daughter,” Alex said, kissing her ardently and then wrapping Taylor’s legs around her waist.
“Where are you taking me?” Taylor asked.
“Just over here,” Alex said, kicking the office door shut on their way to the couch.
“To do what?” Taylor asked.
“Do you remember that thing we did the other night?”
“What thing?” Taylor teased.
“In the kitchen, the thing your first girlfriend taught you to do.”
“Oh, that,” Taylor said, remembering kissing Alex in the kitchen and then proposing something more.
Alex had teased her about how wet Taylor made her and trying once again to end the moratorium on not making love until Alex moved in. Taylor said she wanted proof. Alex put her hand in her shorts and came up with the goods. She stuck her finger in Taylor’s mouth. Taylor sighed heavily as she sucked on Alex’s finger. Then she suggested an old trick. She took Alex’s hand and put it back between her legs, her hand on top of Alex’s guiding it inside Alex, then she pressed herself on top of both their hands, gently pushing against Alex with her hips. They kissed with open eyes, watching the other’s face, feeling each other, and ultimately making them both come. Alex closed her eyes, and pulled Taylor close.
“Did you?” Alex asked.
“Uh huh,” Taylor said, still shaking.
“I think that constitutes making love,” Alex said.
“No it doesn’t. We still have our clothes on so technically it’s more like dry humping.”
“I like it anyway.”
“That was just a teaser.”
“When do I get more?” Alex said.
“You know when.”
Alex eased her back on the couch and inserted herself between her thighs.
“I think I need more teasing, in fact I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Alex said.
“You have,” Taylor said, pulling her closer and kissing her.
“What do you say?”
“I say you should just move in with me so we can end all this torment,” Taylor replied, as Alex took her hand and placed it between her legs.
“Persuade me,” Alex said.
The office door opened and Taylor’s father walked in to find his daughter and his head accountant tangled in a compromising position.
“What do we have here?” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Taylor said, trying to straighten herself up.
Alex sat up and blushed profusely, muttering “It’s not what it looks like.”
“I’d say it looks pretty nice,” Dad replied.
“I feel like a teenager,” Taylor said.
“You are certainly behaving like one. I tried to call your house to see if you wanted to go to dinner and then I came by the office,” Dad explained.
“We were just leaving when all this started,” Taylor explained.
“I can leave and you can resume,” Dad offered, “if I haven’t ruined the moment.”
“Why don’t we all go to dinner,” Taylor said, looking at Alex.
“Sure, if that’s all right,” Alex replied.
“I’d like that,” Dad said.
“What did you have in mind?” Taylor asked.
“I was thinking Durant’s,” Dad replied.
Taylor went to Alex’s office to see if she was finished. Her office was empty. She went out to the receptionist’s desk.
“Sally, has Alex left for the day?” Taylor asked, puzzled. They had a golf date for after work.
“Yes, she has. She wants you to call her when you’re finished.”
“Okay, thanks,” Taylor said, going back to her office.
“Hello,” Alex said.
“I thought we were going golfing. What’s going on? Is everything all right?” Taylor asked, trying not to sound panicky.
“Nothing’s wrong. Something came up,” Alex said, shoving clothes in her suitcase.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m packing,” Alex replied.
“Where are you going?” Taylor asked, her voice cracking, her mind instantly conjuring up images of Alex walking out of her life forever.
“To your house,” Alex said, trying to sound nonchalant but knowing the weight of her words was immense.
There was silence on the line.
“Taylor?”
“What did you say?”
“I’m packing. I want to live with you and I’d like to be making mad, passionate love within the hour,” Alex replied.
“You mean it?” Taylor said.
“No, I’m just fucking with you.”
“Alex!”
“I’m teasing.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re not ready for. I can wait. I can wait forever.”
“Taylor, will you relax? I don’t want to wait. I have sufficiently processed my failed love affair and I want to be with you. We are well adjusted, grown women and we’re both great with details. We’ll work everything out. Don’t worry. Go home and take your clothes off.”
“Really?” Taylor said, feeling instantly like a teenage boy whose girlfriend had
finally agreed to have sex with him.
“Really. I’ll be there in a half an hour,” Alex said.
Taylor nearly floored her father as she flew out of the office.
“Taylor, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I have to get home fast.”
“Why?” Dad asked.
“Alex is moving in.”
“How nice. Does she need some help?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“She’s already packed and on her way.”
“I can come help unload stuff.”
“Thanks Dad, but I think we can handle it.”
“Okay, well don’t hesitate to call,” Dad said.
“Have a nice weekend,” Taylor said to Sally and her father.
“She’s in an awfully big hurry,” Dad said to Sally.
“Wouldn’t you be if moving in meant you got to finally make love to the woman of your dreams?” Sally replied.
“Oh, I had forgotten about the chastity issue.”
“Nothing is a secret here. I do have to say that having all this sexual tension in the office has been exciting,” Sally said, fanning herself with a portfolio.
Alex rang the doorbell and Taylor answered the door stark naked.
They both blushed.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Alex said, taking Taylor in her arms. She kissed her ardently.
“I didn’t want to let you down for your first request,” Taylor said as Alex kneeled in front of her and took her in her mouth. Whatever else Taylor had meant to say got lost in the soft groans as Alex gently brought her to climax. Taylor ran her fingers through Alex’s still damp hair, pulling her head in close.
“I don’t think I can stand anymore,” Taylor said.
“Then don’t,” Alex said, pulling Taylor to the floor.
Together they removed Alex’s clothing, kissing and murmuring words of love.
Halfway through seducing Alex, Taylor stopped. Alex looked up alarmed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I never saw any bags,” Taylor said, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Taylor, please don’t stop. They are in the trunk. I swear,” Alex said, pulling her back down.
“For sure?” Taylor asked.
“Yes,” Alex said, putting Taylor’s hand between her legs and giving her some gentle guidance.
Saxon Bennett - Talk of the Town Page 23